A Strange Dinner Guest
by Mozzarella with Tomatoes
Summary: A strange story introducing Voldemorts two personalities, and his appetite when having a dinner out with masks on! Who is he eating with, and what will happen? Read to find out. Please, plase, please! btw, nothing to do with Dinner with a Perfect Stranger
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I do not, and never ever will own Harry Potter, even if I write a few fics.

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Mozzarella with Tomatoes presents

**A Strange Dinner Guest**

**Chapter 1.**

_Mountain Rosa's flowered terrace was lit with beautifully arranged fairy-lights, or rather, what muggles call fairy-lights. The delicate white tables where far from each other, giving the guests a nice feeling of privacy. The carefully chosen music streamed quietly throughout the restaurant, dreamily satisfying every nearby stroller. In short, Mountain Rosa was a beautiful restaurant, a place where people can go to relax or have a fancy dinner out. _

Lord Voldemort put down the paper he was reading to have a sip of his strong coffee. He was sitting at a muggle café in London, where he was an all-time guest, appearing unexpectedly at any time of the day – and the owner didn't mind at all. He was known as Mr. Backaray, a businessman who travels a lot, and so arrives unexpectedly, at all kinds of times.

When he arrived, the waiter greeted him with a friendly smile, took his coat and hat, and offered him a seat no matter what. He was given a strong coffee automatically, from his own favourite cup, which was reserved just for him. Nobody knew that these small drinks at the London Town Café were Lord Voldemorts escapes from his cruel self. Every time he would kill or destroy, within ten minutes he'd appear at the café and drink his coffee: the comfort of his soul.

He was reading the work of famous restaurant critiques Paul Jaques and John Weans, a small article that always had a place in the morning papers. Lord Voldemort couldn't care less what he ate, whereas Mr. Backaray was a fussy eater, a lover of delicate and fancy dishes, a person hard to please.

He dedicated Friday evenings for a dinner in a fancy restaurant, and so he read the papers with his coffee at the London Town Café. He liked the sound of the Mountain Rosa, and decided to give it a try. He had been eating at restaurants for over a year of Fridays by now, and decided it was boring to eat alone.

Money was no problem for either Mr. Backaray or Lord Voldemort. Mr. Backaray, of course, was a businessman with a lot of money, and Lord Voldemort a talented criminal who could take money from his followers, who were scared into paying him. Inviting someone for dinner sounded like a good idea.

Mr. Backaray put the empty cup back on the table, and picked the papers up again to read.

_Bikers Causing Trouble, Mayhem at Bakers Street, New Star Rising in Lattlesburg, Sports Corner. _

None of the titles looked like they could help a lonely man find an interesting personality to dine with. What Mr. Backaray needed now, was an idea. Then a thought struck him. The man for ideas was Malfoy. He folded the papers neatly, swung his coat over his arm, grabbed his hat, and waved it at the waiter who emerged from the kitchen.

Leaving so soon, sir? the man called, and waiting for no answer, started to clean the table Mr. Backaray just left.

Voldemorts footsteps fell on cold pavement as he turned into a dark alleyway. He stop near a big house with no windows, pulled a stick out of his inner pocket – his wand. He swished with it once, and instead of the elegant suit he was wearing, a long black hooded cloak swooped around his ankles. He sighed contentedly, then disappeared into thin air.

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_(Change of scene)_

The graveyard was cold and still damp from the dawn raindrops, a thick fog roaming about at foot height. It was a chilly cold, a cold that sends shivers down one's spine, a cold that Death Eaters are especially fond of…

Knowing these circumstances explains why a dark black figure appears out of thin air in a second. The slight wind ruffles black fog around the sinister figure.

He pulls his left sleeve up dramatically, and touches some green-black tattoo on his white arm, laughing evil laugh at the thought of several Death Eaters wincing with pain. Who would ever think this dark and evil figure was the same as the mild and decent Mr. Backaray drinking his coffee elegantly while reading the morning paper? Dark figures in sinister graveyards aren't in the least like comfortable cafés in the town… Whoever thought the two as one is very wrong. Mr. Backaray is more the opposite of Lord Voldemort, for the dark figure is none other than the well-known evil wizard.

The wizard was right in feeling the sudden pain of his faithful Death Eaters, who were, truth be told, not exactly rejoicing at their master's call, rather the opposite. Most would have preferred a quiet evening at Mountain Rosa with Mr. Backaray over meeting the cruelty and wrath of Lord Voldemort in a dark and cold graveyard. One could never be sure when to expect Lord Voldemorts anger or approvement.

Reluctantly, but the Death Eaters followed their lord's orders, for none of them where other than cowards. Slytherins and purebloods, for Lord Voldemort wouldn't associate with anyone else, but not one of them had a touch of courage. If they had, they wouldn't work for Voldemort, but fight against him.

They all tried their best to clear their minds of all thoughts to be concealed of the Lord, and their hearts, if they had one, of all fear and hatred, because the Dark Lord was an experienced Legilimens and could smell fear as easily as others can smell the putrid stench of Death and Dementors, or the sweet smell of summer roses. They knew from experience, that the Lord did not reward fear or any other human feelings, except for one: pure hatred towards muggles, muggle-borns, muggle-lovers and all others who sink to their level.

Lord Voldemort was rather impatient, unlike Mr. Backaray, who made excuses for others himself. The Dark Lord's punishments were terrible, and he wasn't known to keep them to himself. Pain was something he sold cheap.

The graveyard was frozen still, the only noise to be heard was the hoot of owls and the nearly silent wind. The Lord could smell then faint fear in the air, and so knew his followers were near.

Suddenly, with a swoosh of wind and a curdle of fog, dark figures started to appear, surrounding Lord Voldemort in a circle.

Lord Voldemorts followers arrived at last.

_**A/N**: Hope you liked it, more to come, so beware!_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** _Sozz everyone for taking so long, I really didn't mean to... I had this chap ready but was kinda lazy, so sorry. PLEASE REVIEW! Anyways, here goes:_

**Chapter 2.**

Twelve cloaked figures stood around the Dark Lord in a circle, hoping with all their might that the Lord did not want to punish them. The Lord turned slowly around on his heels, facing all figures for a few seconds. He stopped before one of them, a rather short, fat man. He opened his cruel mouth to ask a painful question.

"What would you do, Crab, if you had to wait long for your followers?" Lord Voldemort strained the words you and followers, his thin lips twisting into a cruel smile when noticing the victim sweat with humiliation and uncomfort, as intended.

" Wha- … uh.. mme… so-so…-rry si-si-sir…" the cruel smile grew even wider as Crab stuttered helplessly, wanting to please his master, and definitely trying not to say something that would cause him more trouble.

"I asked a question, Crab," the lord said, degrading the poor man, his face now mirroring disgust, "and when I ask a question, I want an answer, Crab. An answer in human language or even Parseltongue, not troll, like you apparently have been doing. Next time I'll be careful not to pick a troll as a Death Eater."

Feeling that he disgraced and humiliated the small fat man enough, the tall Dark Lord spun around with the speed of lightning to face a hooded man who allowed himself a chuckle. Seeing his master facing him, he froze in mid-laugh, pulled his lips tightly together, paled, and tried to look dignified.

The Lord laughed a terrible, hollow laugh. It pleased him to know his Death Eaters feared him, it was the only way he could imagine order.

"Nor gypsies" his icy words were enough to cause the tall figure gasp with shock and pain, and pale even further. Voldemort gave him another disgracing glance, then turned away.

"Anyone else who wants to interrupt me?" he breathed mockingly, his voice, barely more than a whisper, stung sharply in the silent air, and had the effect of a thunderstorm. All Death Eaters tried to shrink as small as molecules, or vanish, but knew it would be stupid, if not impossible.

Nearly as stupid as attempting to kill the Lord would be.

A cold chill crept around the circle, sent by Voldemort. He spun again, causing the Death Eaters to hold their breath, and stopped.

"Avery." The man shivered, but tried not to show his fright, although he knew it was helpless. The Lord already knew he was scared beyond words, he smelled it in his presence, felt the man's every shiver, thought. He was singled out to bear some of his master's fury, though he knew not why Voldemort was angry.

"Y-yes, my lord?" Avery tried to gather his strength and answer without stuttering like Crab. He managed a somewhat cool and calm face, although he was shaking like jelly, and couldn't stop his legs from trembling a little.

"You dare answer me, Avery, when you are trembling with fear? Oh no, that word is not enough. Avery, you are going to fall apart from fear." He smirked at his newest victim, it pleased him to see the man shiver again, and turn ghostly white. Avery lost his cool and calm face to one of fear.

"We can help, can't we?" He looked around expectedly, receiving a few murmurs and grunts.

"Death Eaters help each other."

He looked around again, and, without looking, felt Malfoy smirk at Avery without pity under his hood. His next victim was chosen, and the Dark Lord's words were dripping with cruelty as he addressed Malfoy without even looking at him, a gesture considered as a disgrace.

"Lucius." His words sliced the chilly air, and he felt the smirk fade of the tall man's pale face. "Don't you think we should help the Death Eater in need?"

Lucius Malfoy felt a slight desire to say no, and keep himself from being disgraced in front of the others, but he was a coward, and only managed to say, "Yes, lord." His words were not so cold and cruel as usual, but weak. He dared not look at the Dark Lord, who still didn't face him.

A few dreadful seconds passed, the air could hardly be fuller of icy energy. It was Voldemort who spoke again, mocking Lucius.

"Go ahead, Death Eater. Help Avery." He pronounced the word help painfully, disgracing both of his followers. The one giving help as much as the one receiving it. Independence was something the Death Eaters were very proud of.

Lucius stepped from his place in the circle towards Avery, and waited for a split second – he did not know what to do. The Lord laughed cruelly, knowing how much discomfort he caused the pale man. He willed Lucius to be pushed back to his place, humiliated, but the man pulled his wand out, and cast a spell on Avery – a full body bind. Lord Voldemorts face flashed in surprise for a second, but relaxed again.

"Well, Lucius, not bad, but this is real poor help. Can't you do better?" He willed the man pushed back again, and this time, Lucius fell back to his place none too gracefully. Voldemort pulled his wand out of his pocket, and without even waving it, the binds dropped off Avery to the ground.

Avery shivered and trembled, not knowing what to expect, thinking of the wand in Voldemorts white hand. The Dark Lord certainly was a master at raising fear.

"Avery, good night." The Lord said coldly and indifferently, as if he were just stating that the weather was fine. He flicked his wand this time, letting a large dark snake uncoil and slither out of the tip of it. The snake got closer and closer to the wretched man, sliding up his legs, sending shivers up and down his spine…

"Who dares help him now?" the Lord cried, shrill and high, throwing back his hood to show his slit-like evil red eyes, thin and mocking lips twisted and cruel. The hem of his cloak flared as he cackled cruelly. He stopped abruptly, pointed his wand at Avery, and screamed before the snake strangled the man.

"Avada Kedavra!" the evil words carried on in the air, like endless torture, some birds dropped dead in mid-flight at the sound of these worlds of Death and cruelty, and the struggling man stopped moving.

The air was full of tension, the silence was unbearable, and no Death Eater dared even to move, they all stared at the lifeless body of Avery, as the great snake coiled around it.

"There you go, Nagini my sweet, some dinner you've been waiting for" Voldemort cooed softly to the snake, and turned to face his followers.

"Go." He said, coldly, dismissing the Death Eaters like a headmaster or mistress would dismiss wrongdoers who just got their punishment. Certainly, the Death Eaters disapparated with shame, and lingered not for a moment.

Voldemort only blocked Lucius Malfoy from vanishing, pulling the air tight around him, keeping him in his place. The man looked around with the slight trace of fear in his eyes – everyone else was gone, except for Voldemort and the snake coiling and slithering around the dead body of Avery. Personally, Lucius didn't especially like the company of either, and was more than eager to go. The Dark Lord's face twisted into a cruel half smirk half smile.

"Well, well, Lucius. Aren't you pleased by my company?"


End file.
